Who Are Kyle Rittenhouse Siblings and Where Are They Now?

People frequently pause at Kyle when they hear the term “Rittenhouse.” Following the 2020 Kenosha incident, his prosecution, and eventual acquittal, his name dominated the news. Beyond the contentious interviews and widely shared video, however, is a family whose other members have been silently navigating a very different storm.

Using GoFundMe, Kyle’s older sister Faith Rittenhouse just launched a public appeal. She wasn’t requesting political support or making a contentious claim. All she was attempting to do was maintain a place to live. Due to recent medical stays and financial difficulties, she and their mother, Wendy, were unable to pay their rent, as she revealed in an incredibly open article. Their living circumstances had become “overwhelming and terrifying,” according to her.

Not only was the fundraiser noteworthy, but Faith’s direct allusion to her brother was as well. They were left to fend for themselves since Kyle refused to assist, she said. It wasn’t sour. The facts were devastating. Particularly, the remark seemed to speak to those who realized that not all family conflicts are obvious. Some hurt subtly and gradually.

Faith is 49 years old, decades older than Kyle, and until today, her path has not been made public. She and their mother moved to Florida during the media frenzy surrounding Kyle’s trial, allegedly to avoid the stigma. They were looking for peace, not news. Despite stillness, expenses have a way of creeping up.

The youngest sister, McKenzie Rittenhouse, has continued to be much more distant. Publicly, very little is known about her. No comments, no interviews, no social media campaigns. Whether on purpose or out of necessity, she has vanished into anonymity, a luxury that is rarely granted to families associated with someone so contentious.

Profile Table

The $3,000 target for Faith’s fundraiser was swiftly surpassed. The whole story, however, was never the money. Her message exposed a family divided not only by politics or location but also by emotional distance. Her words depicted a mother and daughter negotiating an unintended consequence of their celebrity.

Faith’s post has an especially strong emotional impact. She attached a picture of herself in a hospital bed with her chest taped to a cardiac monitor. It wasn’t a publicity stunt. It seemed more like proof—proof of attempting, of effort, of seeking aid without the resources to ask in secret.

That being said, Kyle has clearly moved on. In addition to appearing at political rallies, he has published a book and started foundations. He continues to be active on the internet, posting videos, analysis, and advocacy. He seems purposeful in keeping quiet about his family’s predicament. It’s unclear if it’s legal counsel, personal conviction, or just plain remoteness.

Wendy’s and Faith’s everyday lives are less planned. They depend on short-term help. They handle long-term medical issues. Their apartment may not be theirs for long, so they strive to preserve what little refuge they have left. Despite the media frenzy that previously surrounded them, they now confront less obvious dangers including past-due rent, precarious work, and the weariness of being called by someone else’s name.

The purity of Faith’s request is what sticks out the most. She did not exaggerate her situation. She failed to take advantage of her brother’s notoriety. Her straightforward statement of her reality added to its persuasiveness. In her own words, she seemed to declare, “We never asked for this.” “All we want to do is survive.”

I paused at her meticulous language as I read her post several times. I was reminded that celebrity never comes by itself, especially if it is not invited. It results in presumptions, scrutiny, and repercussions for people in the vicinity, particularly when their opinions are the least heard.

Faith’s decision to speak up through a single fundraising site full of the kind of honesty seldom found in public conversation, rather than through media rounds or television interviews, has a subtle strength. The larger question is still unsolved, even though she may have achieved her financial objective.

This isn’t a tale of blame or guilt. It is an illustration of how notoriety can destroy families, how silence may be more devastating than conflict, and how some people’s lives are changed by their relatives rather than by their actions. Faith Rittenhouse is not requesting sympathy. She wants to be seen. Surprisingly, her voice—delivered without spectacle—might be the most relatable aspect of the Rittenhouse legacy to yet.